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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283051">Fluffy Voles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/excessiveprepositionalphrases/pseuds/excessiveprepositionalphrases'>excessiveprepositionalphrases</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cardassian voles - Freeform, Fluff, Friend-Insert, Gen, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, This is a wild one because I spent a chapter on plot, and then took a sharp left into touchy fluff, more of the massive friend universe, pulse taking as tenderness, teen only for language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:34:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/excessiveprepositionalphrases/pseuds/excessiveprepositionalphrases</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Another edition in the adventures of Space Savannah and her Discord buddies. More self indulgent fluff with Julian, and lots of goofy stuff with my friends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Deep Space Discord Literary Universe</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Voles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s he doing?”</p><p>“Uh…”</p><p>Susan tilted her head to one side and studied the visual. “No, seriously,” she repeated. “For real. What is he doing.”</p><p>I shook my head slowly as I looked the sight up and down.</p><p>“I haven’t the foggiest idea.”</p><p>“Should we ask him?”</p><p>“Not it!”</p><p>“Hypocrite!” Susan said playfully.</p><p>“Look. If I ask him what he’s up to, he’s going to get me involved. He won’t even mean to. He won’t even <em>ask</em>. He’ll just tell me what he’s up to, and my vocal chords will be possessed, and I will say “can I help you with that?” and then 4 hours of my life will have gone by. I” – I held up the handful of broken PADDs in my hand – “have other things I need to be doing.”</p><p>“Unlike me, of course. I am completely immune to Julian and not in love with him at all.”</p><p>“You’re stronger than me!” I said with a laugh. We stood there, in the doorway, for a long moment, watching the scene.</p><p>“You know,” Susan whispered, “we should probably stop talking and get him down from there.”</p><p>“Not it!” I repeated. Susan rolled her eyes at me affectionately and took one for the team, stepping into the infirmary and facing down the absolutely ridiculous visual.</p><p>“Hey Doc?” she began. Julian jumped halfway out of his skin. There was a hint of stifled laughter from all parties. Julian looked so incredibly guilty that, had I not known him quite so well, I would have accused him of a crime of some sort.</p><p>“Oh. Ah. Hello,” Julian stammered.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Susan asked.</p><p>What he was doing, exactly, was standing, precariously, on a computer console. The suspicious positioning of a rolling chair next to the console suggested he had used it to boost himself up and onto the equipment. And now he was balanced, boots carefully positioned between the parts of the console that were actually screens, and…banging on the ceiling. Not just touching the ceiling, but pounding on it methodically. I joined Susan next to the console.</p><p>“Got something you want to share?” I asked. Julian gave us one of his awkward smiles.</p><p>“Voles,” he said quickly, as if the the single word was enough to explain why there was a 6 foot doctor standing on a computer playing drums on the ceiling. The fun part about voles, though, was that it absolutely was.</p><p>“I thought Miles eradicated the voles?” I half said, half asked.</p><p>“So did I, until this morning. But they’re definitely back. And it’s” – as if for comic effect, he banged on the ceiling again – “very" - another bang - "annoying.”</p><p>“Still doesn’t quite explain what you’re doing, though,” Susan very accurately pointed out.</p><p>“I can hear them,” Julian explained. “They haven’t actually caused an issue in the infirmary yet, technically. They haven’t damaged anything. But <em>I </em>can hear them. I’m not sure if anyone else can?”</p><p>Susan and I shook our heads. “Must be a superhuman thing,” I said. He shrugged.</p><p>“Might be. But it’s very distracting. All I can hear…tiny feet in the ceiling. For the last 5 hours.”</p><p>“<em>Please</em> get down from there?” Susan pleaded. “You’re going to either break the console or yourself. If you break the console, Savannah will never forgive you. If you break yourself, none of us will.”</p><p>“I have,” Julian began, and lifted a foot for effect, “superhuman balance.”</p><p>“Please get down,” I said, more seriously, and slightly pathetically. He really was worrying me a little, and I couldn’t turn off the image of him hurting himself somehow. Julian frowned like a child, but carefully slid off the console and back onto the floor.</p><p>“Happy?” he asked with a warm smile.</p><p>“Yes. Very,” I answered. “We’ll figure out what to do about the voles. Until then…play some Klingon opera, I don’t know.”</p><p>“Something from the Trill classical romantic period?” Susan suggested.</p><p>“That’s probably better,” I agreed.</p><p>Susan was kind enough to wait until we were solidly out of Julian’s earshot before nudging my shoulder playfully. “I have to admit, you were right,” she said.</p><p>“Right about what?”</p><p>“Julian smiled at you and you immediately volunteered to solve his problems.”</p><p>“I have a crystalline understanding of my own weaknesses. Julian’s green eyes are one of them.”</p><p>“And the others are…?”</p><p>“Cardassian desserts and really good holonovels.”</p>
<hr/><p>"I was coming to tell you about the voles, but I suspect you already know.”</p><p>I had come to bring the return of the alien rodents to the attention of the station’s resident dealers of justice, but it was abundantly clear they were way ahead of me. Kira and Lillianna were seated cross legged on the floor next to each other, both a little sweaty and dusty, in a kind of frustrated silence. Lt. Bond had perched herself on Odo’s desk, and was nursing a similar expression. Her normally impeccable bun was half undone and messy, and she was rubbing her face like she had a headache. Odo, seated behind his desk in customary fashion, was the only one who didn’t look like something of a mess, but he had an unfair advantage in that department. The whole group had the distinctive look of people who had spent more time than they would have liked to in conduits and pylons.</p><p>“Thank you, Lieutenant, we are very aware of the voles,” Odo drolled in his customary fashion.</p><p>“One of them bit me!” Kira complained from the floor.</p><p>“You should probably get Julian to take a look at that,” Lillianna said, eyeing the major protectively. Lillianna was part of Bajoran intelligence, and she was to Kira as I was to Julian: ever present, affectionate, and inseparable. She wasn’t allowed to tell us what <em>exactly </em>she was doing on the station – her position with the intelligence service prohibited her from doing so. We all suspected that Kira probably knew, but there were moments where even she seemed in the dark. We were all also certain that Garak knew, but if he did, it was definitely not because Lillianna had told him. Right now, she was eyeing the bruised spot on the major’s hand and giving Kira a look that suggested if she didn’t let the doctor take a look at the injury, she was going to get affectionately made to.</p><p>“I’m fine, really!” Kira protested. We all looked at her disbelievingly, and then at Lillianna, silently prodding her to handle the major in a way none of us quite could. She nodded slowly and rested her hand gently on Kira’s arm.</p><p>“Nerys,” she said softly. “Please? We can’t have you out of commission because of a vole bite.”</p><p>Kira looked at us all but smiled broadly. There was a sincere happiness behind the expression. The major liked to complain about it, but it was impossible not to see how much she enjoyed being forced to care for herself. She unfolded herself begrudgingly from the floor. “Fine,” she said, with entirely mock frustration. “But you” – this was directed at Lillianna – “are coming with me. No reason we can’t discuss today’s intelligence reports on the way.”</p><p>“Have fun!” I called after them, and turned my attention to Bond.</p><p>“So, voles?” I asked.</p><p>“We think they came aboard on an unscanned cargo load on a freighter from Cardassia,” Odo said.</p><p>“My team usually scans all cargo from Cardassia for Vole-Specific life signs, but…” Bond trailed off.</p><p>“Where exactly were you guys today?” I asked. “You all looked pretty worse for wear.”</p><p>“Upper pylon two,” Odo answered. “The Chief picked up on some technical issues in the area that reminded him of previous vole damage, so we went to investigate.”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain why you all look like hell.”</p><p>“There were conduits, voles were chased, it was a fun time,” Bond said with a half smile. “How did you find out about them?”</p><p>“They’ve apparently moved into the infirmary ceiling. Julian says – and I have no way to confirm this, but it seems believable enough – that with his hearing, he can hear them running around and it’s driving him bananas. I was walking by this morning and I found him standing on a console literally beating on the ceiling trying to chase them away, so I would say it’s a serious issue.”</p><p>“Poor Julian,” Bond said softly. Odo rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Doctor Bashir is perfectly capable of taking care of himself,” he said. Bond and I looked at him sharply. “I’m sorry, I forgot,” he continued. “Your little group still keeping a careful, loving eye on the Doctor?”</p><p>“No Julian shall escape my sight,” I said with a laugh.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Pulse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I will get back to my Goofy Comedy Vole Plot, but first: some self indulgent Julian fluff, because it's one of my self inserts, and that's what we do here.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was up on the console again. This time he had a tricorder in his hand, and was carefully scanning the ceiling.</p><p>“<em>Julian</em>,” I said, furrowing my brows slightly in his direction.</p><p>“I’m not beating on the ceiling this time!” he answered proudly. I laughed.</p><p>“That wasn’t the problem! The problem is that you’re going to fall off that thing and break yourself and then we’ll all be SOL.”</p><p>“Just trying to determine how many life signs there are,” he explained, focusing on the tricorder again. The truth was, he was probably just fine. The console he was standing on was plenty large and strong enough to support him, and between the hand eye coordination and the balance and all the other superhuman details, he wasn’t really in any danger. But something about seeing him up there made my heart palpitate.</p><p>“Julian?” I repeated, more softly. It was a tone I reserved to indicate I was actually being serious. He looked up from his tricorder again, face soft with worry.</p><p>“You’re giving me major anxiety. Please get down.”</p><p>That was all he needed to hear, and he was on the floor again, and then immediately next to me.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said. “You tried you tell me that before. I should have picked up on it. I’m safe now, see?” – he bounced on his heels for effect – “solid ground.”</p><p>I laughed. “Thank you. How many voles?”</p><p>“According to my readings, at least 23.”</p><p>“A whole family!”</p><p>“An <em>extended</em> one. With very loud little feet.”</p><p>He looked so excited about his minor discovery. I felt slightly guilty about pulling him away from it.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked. I hadn’t realized I had been wearing the guilt on my face.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m being overbearing. You should be up there counting voles.”</p><p>Julian gave me one of his warm smiles. “Don’t be sorry. You’re exactly right. I’m going to fall off that console and break a bone, and then I’ll be telling you how right you were.”</p><p>“That’s all I can picture!” I explained, half serious and half laughing. “And if anything happens to you, we’re in trouble.</p><p>“I’m not the <em>only</em> doctor on the station,” he said.</p><p>“I knooow. But if any of the others get near me they’re going to hear the scream in on the other side of the wormhole. Besides, you’re the CMO! We can’t do without you. What am I going to do, take over? I don’t even know how to take a pulse.”</p><p>The look on Julian’s face told me I had just accidentally started something. Whatever it was promised to be embarrassing for me, but I couldn’t help but smile at him. He had that dark sparkle in his eyes. He was <em>going somewhere, </em>and I was now simply along for the ride. Julian starting a conversation was like a spacecraft approaching warp. You had about half a second to either get out or brace yourself. I was always mystified by the number of people who seemed to run away when he got that look. I figured they must have never really listened to him. Julian’s rambles were my favorite thing in the world. They were on the most fascinating topics – quantum effects and microbiology and the effects of astrophysical anomalies on the body. But even more there was something deeply comforting about listening to him talk. It was partly just that he had a lovely voice, but even more than that there was an incredible relief in not having to talk myself. Sometimes it was impossibly nice to simply sit back and let Julian shoulder the entire brunt of the conversational effort. All that was required of me was that I listen. That, at least, was the easiest thing in the world. Sometimes, when I was especially stressed or anxious, I would invent some reason to repair something in the infirmary, and once I got there, strike up a conversation about nerdiest thing I could invent, just to get him talking – and then all I had to do was sit back and listen to his voice. He had such a way of seeing through me that I wondered if he knew how much I loved to listen to him talk, and that I sometimes talked to him about nothing just because talking to him made me feel safe. I was fairly certain he did. Right now he was definitely going somewhere about pulses. I put on my listening ears.</p><p>“Everyone should know how to take a pulse,” he said, clearly slightly scandalized by my admission. “It’s the most important vital sign.”</p><p>I pointed at the tricorder still in his hand. “That’s why we invented that!”</p><p>“Oh, you’re not wrong. But you should know how to take one by hand. There’s something about doing it by hand the tricorder doesn’t really capture. Sure, it’s got every imaginable stat – but I can <em>feel</em> when something’s wrong, and that’s hard to put into numbers.”</p><p>“Well I’m sure<em> you</em> can. You’re trained in all that. I doubt I can.”</p><p>“I hope you never have to test this, but I promise, even you could. A thready pulse feels like nothing else. There’s an innate human understanding that it’s wrong.”</p><p>“I believe it,” I confirmed. I could tell his ramble was about to turn into something else, but I was along for this ride wherever it went.</p><p>“Do you really not know how?” he asked.</p><p>“I mean, not really? It seems simple enough. I didn’t know there was much to learn.”</p><p>“It is simple! It’s very simple. But most people get the pulse points wrong at first. Come on!” – there it was. Off he went. “I’ll teach you. You can practice on me.”</p><p>“Can’t I practice on myself?” I asked. The crush was beginning to rear its head again, and as much as I was used to Julian touching me, the idea of actually touching <em>him</em> sent me into butterfly territory for some reason.</p><p>“Oh, it’s much better if you can practice on someone else,” he said. I giggled awkwardly. He gave me a huge, excited grin. “Wait, I can make this even better!” he added. He waved me to follow him. Following Julian was the one thing I had no trouble doing. Exactly what he had in mind didn’t sink in until he sat down on the nearest biobed, crossed his feet at the ankles, and turned his green eyes squarely on me.</p><p>“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it right!” he said. More awkward laughter from me. The look in his eyes was familiar, and I got the distinct feeling he was playing with me. And as awkward and giggly as I was, I wasn’t a good enough liar to pretend I wasn’t enjoying it.</p><p>“This feels so wrong!”</p><p>“No, no, it’s fantastic. Nothing like a good role reversal. So anyway, pulse points. There’s about half a dozen pulse points on the body. Well, nine, to be exact. Anywhere an artery comes close to the skin. Temporal artery, facial, carotid, brachial, radial, femoral, popliteal, tibial, pedal.”</p><p>“You’re officially over my head,” I said.</p><p>“In order: temple, cheek, neck, elbow, wrist, groin, knee, ankle, foot.”</p><p>“Okay, <em>those</em> words are ones I understand."</p><p>“Obviously, the most common ones are the ones that are easy to access around most clothes – so temporal, carotid, and radial, mostly – meaning the temple, neck, and wrist. Brachial pulses are common in pediatrics, but kind of pointless in my opinion – too many other arteries that are much easier to access and much stronger.”</p><p>I just nodded along.</p><p>“The temporal pulse isn’t super important either, in my opinion – and a little harder and more awkward to take. The only pulse points doctors really use are the neck and wrist. That’s all I’m concerned about teaching you.”</p><p>“Is there a difference?”</p><p>“Practically, not really. The carotid is a little stronger and easier to count, but it depends on how comfortable your patient is. Let me see your wrist.”</p><p>I willingly offered him my hand, and he gently wrapped his hand around mine, and pressed his fingers into my wrist.</p><p>“This isn’t particularly threatening,” he explained. Most people aren’t super protective of their hands. But..” He let go of my hand. “Lean your head back, just a little,” he instructed. I did.</p><p>He gently pressed his fingers into the side of my throat. “I can do this to you, and not even tell you what I’m doing, and not think twice about it,” he explained. “Because I know you trust me. But if you were frightened, or didn’t know me, or even worse, didn’t understand me, it just looks like someone coming for your throat.” He removed his hand from my neck and kept talking. “And that’s just in a perfect world, where you’re aware and clearheaded. In a real trauma situation, your patient is frightened, in pain, probably a little bit hazy and not thinking straight – so all they see is a strange man putting his hands uncomfortably close to their trachea. So I try to avoid it, if I can, unless the patient is unconscious or I know they’re comfortable.”</p><p>I leaned back and took a second to take it in. “You really do think about all this stuff,” I said quietly.</p><p>“Of course I do."</p><p>“I don’t know, it just seems so effortless sometimes.”</p><p>“It’s not effortless at all,” he said. “Medicine is a constant thought process – and most of it isn’t about the technical details. It’s about communicating with people, and making them comfortable when they’re in pain.”</p><p>“You do an absolutely glorious job of it.”</p><p>He smiled from ear to ear. “I’m very glad to hear that,” he said. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. The point <em>is” </em>– he extended his hand to me, palm up. “you’re the doctor now. What’s my pulse?”</p><p>I gave him another awkward laugh. It was all I could do. I had never quite figured out how to do anything other than laugh when I was nervous. I wasn’t sure<em> why </em>I was nervous – something about doctoring on the Doctor. And the butterflies, too. There were plenty of those. But Julian was watching me like a hawk. Looking for anything that bumped up against <em>real</em> discomfort. If he thought for a second I was actually uncomfortable with the situation, he would have stopped dead in his tracks. But as giggly and awkward as I was, I was also having the time of my life, and the gentle sparkle in his eyes made it clear that he absolutely knew it.</p><p>“You’re playing with me again, aren’t you?” I asked with a grin. He hadn’t stopped smiling for a second.</p><p>“I totally am.”</p><p>I reached out and cautiously took his hand, and pressed my fingers into the center of the inside of his wrist. His skin was warm, but there was no pulse to be found. He shook his head.</p><p>“That’s what everyone does,” he said softly. “It’s more towards the thumb. Not over the tendons, but over the bone.”</p><p>I pulled my fingers towards the outer edge of Julian’s wrist. He gave me an endeared expression and grabbed my hand with his free hand, and gently pulled my fingers up his wrist slightly, so they were closer to his hand.</p><p>“Oh that’s…wild,” I whispered. I could feel the warm pulsing under my fingertips.</p><p>“Incredible, isn’t it?”</p><p>I nodded. “It really is. What’s normal? How fast should your pulse be?”</p><p>“For a man in his 30s? About 70.”</p><p>“I’m not a doctor, but that seems…”</p><p>“Faster than mine? It is. It’s the genetic engineering. Turns out when all your muscles get stronger that includes your heart. My pulse will always be unnaturally slow.”</p><p>I nodded again. I was just trying to take it in.</p><p>“Now – for the fun one,” Julian said, and carefully snaked his wrist out from under my hand. “The carotid is a little more difficult to find, but I have full confidence in you.” He gave me a an expectant expression and raised his chin slightly. It was only then that it sunk in that he was expecting me to put my hand on his throat.</p><p>“That’s…terrifying,” I said.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I don’t know! It feels weird. I feel like I’m going to hurt you.”</p><p>“Did it hurt you when I did it a minute ago?”</p><p>“No, but…”</p><p>“Then you’re not going to hurt me,” he reassured. I nodded but stood there, frozen. “It’s alright. I promise. You can touch me. I’m not going to bite you,” he continued. <em>Damn butterflies.</em></p><p>“Here,” he said softly. He pressed his fingers into his own neck. “Put your fingers right there.”</p><p>I nervously pressed my fingers into his neck. There was the pulse again, much stronger.</p><p>“It’s even more obvious there,” I said.</p><p>“It is. It’s easier to count, but as I said it can freak patients out if they don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”</p><p>I removed my hand from his neck and took stock of the experience. There was a nerdy sincerity about the whole thing. He so clearly had really wanted to teach me something about medicine. But it was also abundantly clear from the way he was smiling at me, all eyelashes and dimples, that some of it had been for my benefit. And I was so completely, totally okay with that. Julian had figured out ages before that all he had to do to make me smile was to bat his eyelashes at me, or smile at me the right way, or give me a few minutes of his time. He hadn’t been kidding about the massive crush. But a massive crush was all it was, and we both knew it. He had Garak, and I had the computers, and both of us were immensely happy with our lots. We both knew that, too – and it granted us a magical flavor of freedom to play around with each other like this. I got to look him in the eye and tell him I thought he was adorable, and he got to grin in my general direction and watch me melt into giggles. It was something neither of us could have defined, even if we’d been asked to. Neither of us wanted to define it.</p><p>“I supposed I should ask!” he said suddenly. “Did you need something? I know you didn’t come in with the intent of getting a lesson on taking pulses.”</p><p>“Oh! Yeah. Right. So, about the voles…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Game Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which a game plan is established.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I was <em>told </em>there would be a game plan,” Miles said, annoyance clearly creeping into voice.</p><p>“Find your sense of Zen, chief,” Susan said.</p><p>“I don’t have <em>‘zen’</em>.”</p><p>“Just relaaaax,” Susan repeated, making a demonstrative hand motion. “Sit back and let the Doctor take care of you, for a little while.”</p><p>“I don’t NEED to be taken care of. What I NEED is to get these Cardassian rodents off my station.”</p><p>Susan rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Chief?” Garak began, tentatively,</p><p>“Yes!?"</p><p>“Be quiet.”</p><p>Miles furrowed his brow, but gave in, and sat back on his heels. We were all sitting in a giant circle on the infirmary floor. Chairs had seemed like far too much trouble, and after we realized exactly how many of us there were, we had simply made a large, cross-legged circle and pretended we were in school again. For a theoretically random circle, we had all done a pretty good job of laying ourselves out in a way that put us close to “our people.” Susan was at one “end” of the circle, next to her was Lillianna, and where there was Lillianna there was always Kira, and where there was Kira there was Odo, and where there was Odo there was Bond. Miles had squeezed himself in between Bond and Garak, and appeared to have very mixed feelings about his company, deliberately talking to Bond and clearly pretending Garak was not next to him. Where Garak was there was usually Irena close by, and so she was, in her most glamorous pajamas. She was accompanied by Robertson, and then myself, just a few feet from Susan, and in between us a space deliberately left for the doctor to squish himself into, which he was doing right that moment, very happily, a pile of PADDs and papers in his hands. Susan yawned.</p><p>“Everything alright?” Julian asked her quietly.</p><p>“Oh, me? I’m fine. Just sleepy. This is a little early for my tastes.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Julian said with a soft smile. “Figured we should get a head start on the voles.”</p><p>“You can be right and I can be unhappy about it at the same time,” she retorted. She drowsily leaned into Julian. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed, before launching into his presentation. He started with an apology.</p><p>“As one of our resident computer experts has rightfully pointed out, it is very early, so for that, I apologize. I just thought we might want to get a head start on the situation. I’ve been doing some research on the subject, and while the concentration of Anesthizine gas required to knock out a humanoid is 70 parts per million, it only takes 15 to knock out a vole.”</p><p>“Originally our plan was to simply eradicate them,” Kira said. “But unfortunately, it’s gotten a lot more complicated. The captain had a message this morning from the Cardassian government informing us that our pests are a protected species on Cardassia Prime. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that if we were to harm the voles in any way, we would be looking at an interplanetary diplomatic incident.”</p><p>“Just to ensure we’re perfectly clear, you’re suggesting that we…rescue the voles?” Garak asked.</p><p>“That is <em>exactly </em>what we’re doing,” Julian confirmed. “We’re going to flood the life support system with anesthizine gas, at a concentration of 15 parts per million. Not nearly enough to work on us, but plenty to knock out the voles.”</p><p>“That seems dangerous,” Garak pointed out.</p><p>“It’s perfectly safe,” I reassured him. “Trust me, if it was dangerous, I would be the first to freak out about it. 15 parts per million is an incredibly low concentration, even anesthetizing a child takes nearly 3 times that much.”</p><p>“So, just to ask, what are we going to do with the voles once we’ve knocked them unconscious?” Irena asked.</p><p>“We’re going to beam them out.”</p><p>A dozen people, all talking at once.</p><p>“I know it seems absurd, but just bear with – ” – Kira.</p><p>“You’re going to <em>wh – ” – </em>Garak.</p><p>“Excuse me, you expect me to transport how many –” – Miles.</p><p>“I get that it doesn’t seem very plausible on paper, but you’d be surprised – ” – Lillianna.</p><p>“You’re going to BEAM out the VOLES?” – Robertson.</p><p>“Look, you know we love you, but did you really just say <em>beam them out?” </em>– Susan, drowsily. Julian still had his arm around her shoulders, softly rubbing her arm, and she had started to melt into him. It was very cute. Kira raised a hand in an attempt to quiet the rowdy room.</p><p>“WE UNDERSTAND EVERYONE’S CONCERNS,” she began, having to yell over the cacophony. The voices quieted, and she lowered her volume. “But the plan is very simple. We fan out, and cover as much of the station as we can.”</p><p>“The voles might be plentiful, but the length of their gestation period means that…” Julian trailed off. He had a slightly guilty look on his face. There was a dead silence in the room as the whole circle stared at him expectantly, waiting for the second half of his paragraph. He had caught himself headed for a ramble, and stopped himself before he got started – I could see it in his eyes. He was so used to being dismissed and ignored when he got to talking that he didn’t realize we were all hanging on his every word.</p><p>“Well?” Lillianna asked. “Gestation period?”</p><p>“Sorry, that was…I’m getting too technical.”</p><p>Irena shook her head, the silk scarf in her hair bouncing. “Go on!” she prodded. “I think we’re all interested.”</p><p>“Ramble, Julian,” Robertson encouraged, a hint of the reassuring teacher in their voice. Julian smiled, a sense of calm clearly settling over him, and kept going.</p><p>“…the length of their gestation period means they aren’t extremely prolific breeders. They multiply quite slowly. Even if we only get a percentage of the voles off the station, it’ll make a huge impact, and if we have to have a monthly vole hunt, we will. Eventually, we’ll get them all. They can’t breed faster than we can take them out.”</p><p>“And where are we beaming these voles <em>to</em>?” Bond asked, clearly asking the question that was also on Odo’s mind.</p><p>“A couple of very large cages in one of the cargo bays,” Julian explained.</p><p>“So what’s the plan for actually locking onto the voles?” Robertson asked.</p><p>“With these!” – for dramatic effect, Julian tossed a handful of the tiny plastic devices in his pockets into the center of the circle.</p><p>“Portable, miniature, transporter beacons.”</p><p>Irena picked up one of the tiny plastic devices, looked at it for a moment, and stifled a laugh. “…for this to work, wouldn’t it have to be…attached to the vole?”</p><p>“It needs to be in contact with it at least, yes.”</p><p>“So – just to be clear, you’re suggesting – oh my god – you’re saying what we’re about to do is fan out across the station and stick transporter beacons to unconscious voles,” Robertson said, barely able to restrain themself from falling into hysterical laughter. Julian smiled broadly.</p><p>“That’s precisely what I’m suggesting, yes.” There was a wave of hushed giggles from the group. “I’d like you in teams,” he continued. “The anesthetic truly isn’t dangerous. Even if it did knock you out, that’s what it’s used for, so you’re in no danger. And the density of it we’ll be using wouldn’t be enough to anesthetize an infant. However, anesthetics aren’t a binary concept. They affect everyone differently, and it’s a long way from conscious to unconscious.”</p><p>“Tell it to us straight, Doctor,” Kira said.</p><p>“There’s no chance that any of you will be knocked unconscious, and I don’t expect you to be effected at all. However, there’s a small chance the anesthetic will make you, especially the smaller among you, a little…loopy. I want you in small teams. I would prefer none of you be on your own.”</p><p>“Not just a vole hunt, but a HIGH vole hunt!” I said enthusiastically.</p><p>As soon as the word “teams” had been said, everyone had almost instinctively grabbed the person next to them. Kira had Lillianna by the arm, as Irena had Garak and Robertson. Odo and Bond were sharing a knowing look. Miles was eyeing his present company, a little lost. His eyes finally settled on Julian. He looked a bit like he was looking to Julian for protection. It was unusual for him to wear it so clearly in his face, but for all the machismo he usually displayed, he hung onto Julian for comfort as much as the rest of us did.</p><p>“Are you coming, Julian?” he asked.</p><p>“No - I’ll be here, helping coordinate you all. I could use a hand with that, actually.” Julian said the last part with a glance at Susan, who was still snuggled up to him, clearly almost entirely asleep.</p><p>“Mmmmmwhat?” she mumbled.</p><p>“I wanted to know if you would rather stay here and help me coordinate, than go vole hunting.”</p><p>“I’m…mph…I don’t think I’m much…good…for coooordianting,” she said.</p><p>“I know,” he answered softly. “I’m just giving you an excuse to curl up on a biobed and go back to sleep.”</p><p>“Oh, gosh, no!” Susan said, suddenly appearing more awake. “That wouldn’t be fair at all, for everyone else to have to do the work.”</p><p>“I’m not approving you for any kind of mission, even one this safe, while you’re this tired. You’re staying here and sleeping. Doctor’s orders.” The last part was said with a knowing, goofy smile. It was abundantly clear that he had no intention of stopping her from doing anything. All she wanted to do was to go back to sleep, and she wore it on her face. But Julian knew she needed permission to feel okay about doing so, and he, blessedly, was in a position to give it to her. She mumbled appreciatively and fell back into his shoulder.</p><p>“You’re with me,” I said to Miles. We all collected our handfuls of transporter beacons and unfolded ourselves from the floor.</p><p>“If you want her asleep in a bed and not on you, you may have to carry her,” Robertson said to Julian, eyeing Susan’s sleeping form. He laughed and squeezed her shoulders again.</p><p>“I think I can handle that,” he said.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Vole Bowling. Vowling.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The great vole hunt commences. It does not go as planned.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The amount of fun I have had writing this is unbelievable. I can't even express how much fun it's become to expand this universe.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The anesthizine pumped through the system, and the teams decided (and named, for absolutely no reason, none of us could help it [Miles and I decided on “Tech Babes,” Kira and Ahna had gone with the simple but effective “Team Bajor,” Irena, Robertson, and Garak had selected the ironically opposite “For Cardassia,” and Bond and Odo had opted for “Team Justice"] but this was just the way we all were), we fanned out across the station. Kira and Ahna, both being less-than-huge fans of the voles to begin with, had taken the habitat ring, an area we expected to be lower on vole-density. True to their name, Team Justice had less picked a specific area than dedicated themselves to stalking methodically across the station, starting with the promenade. Both being aware of, and sensitive to, Garak’s claustrophobia, Irena and Robertson volunteered their team to handle the cargo bays, to keep their Cardassian companion out of the conduits. And as an exact opposite, myself being tiny and Miles being an expert in the station’s engineering, the two us volunteered to take the most complex and gymnastic section, upper pylon two, a place that was mostly made of access hatches and conduits. It had been a long while since I had gotten to climb through a conduit, so I, at least, was looking forward to the experience. Miles seemed less convinced.</p>
<hr/><h2>Team Cardassia</h2><p>“I really love your aesthetic choices this morning,” Robertson said, punching an access code into the door of the cargo bay.</p><p>“The replicator had a few antique pieces in its database,” Irena explained, smoothing out the arm of her silk pajamas. “I thought if we were going to do this, might as well be comfortable.”</p><p>“It is a lovely fabric, but the replicators truly struggle to capture the beauty of real silk. If you’d give me one of your antique patterns, I would be more than happy to create something for you from the finest fabrics the quadrant has to offer,” Garak said.</p><p>“I think I shall take you up on that.”</p><p>“Uh, Guys? I think we may have underestimated…”</p><p>Robertson was standing in the doorway, looking into the cargo bay. This bay in particular was used for food and cargo storage, and the floor was littered with the fluffy bodies of unconscious voles. Robertson pulled a handful of the tiny plastic beacons from their pocket, and took a cautious step into the bay. Garak tapped his communicator.</p><p>“Garak to Bashir.”</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>“Doctor, are we absolutely certain the pests are completely unconscious? We’re looking at a “<em>The Birds”</em> situation over here.”</p><p>“Garak, I promise no swarming voles.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, Doctor. Garak out.”</p>
<h2>Team Bajor</h2><p>“Even though I know we’re meant to be hunting voles, I’m starting to hope we don’t find any,” Kira said, happily noting that the corridor around her was vole free.</p><p>“It’s almost funny,” Ahna said. “We’re trying to eradicate Cardassian pests from the station.”</p><p>“Right? And to top that, there’s voles.”</p><p>The two shared a knowing laugh.</p><p>“The doctor said these things need to actually be on the animals to work. Does that mean we’ve got to <em>touch</em> them?” Kira asked, horrified.</p><p>“I think it does. I wish it didn’t.”</p><p>“Maybe we can just throw them,” Kira suggested. “Toss a handful, see how many voles you can hit.”</p><p>“Like bowling.”</p><p>“Vole bowling.”</p><p>“Vowling?”</p><p>More laughter. They both had to stop and take a moment to catch their breaths.</p><p>“This isn’t exactly what I signed up for when I joined the service, but I’m not complaining,” Ahna said.</p><p>“What, you never imaged yourself stalking through the habitat section of a Cardassian station, trying to take out unconscious pests?”</p><p>“That’s exactly what I imagined. I just never thought it would be quite this much fun!”</p>
<h2>Team Justice</h2><p>Bond activated one of the transport beacons, and set it carefully on the head of an unconscious vole. Within a few seconds the animal faded away, leaving the beacon behind. Bond collected it and stood up again.</p><p>“It really was a good idea the chief had, programming the computer to leave the beacons behind,” Odo said.</p><p>“Well, otherwise, we would have needed thousands of these.”</p><p>Odo was staring, unhappily, at the bar. They were standing in Quark’s, and Odo looked as if he was waiting for trouble to make itself known.</p><p>“There’s no one here,” Bond said. “All the troublemakers are asleep.”</p><p>“There is no such thing as a ‘trouble free time’ when Quark is around.”</p><p>
  <em>Clang.</em>
</p><p>They pulled out their phasers like a Wild West quick draw.</p><p>“Show yourself!” Bond demanded. “The bar’s closed. No one is allowed in here.”</p><p>There was a heavy thump from behind the bar.</p><p>“Whoever you are, I suggest you make yourself known<em> now</em>,” Odo said.</p><p>Dramatically, and as if for comedic effect, the head and face of a Bolian emerged above the bar. He stood slowly, and stared down the security team.</p><p>“What on earth were you doing down there?” Odo asked.</p><p>Equally slowly, a dabo girl also appeared.</p><p>Odo pressed his lips together and studied the couple judgmentally under his brow. “Run along,” he said, deciding just this once that he had more important tasks than arresting a couple of horny trespassers. The Bolian and his companion scampered off with deferential nods.</p><p>“You’d <em>think</em> they’d be able to keep in their quarters,” Odo complained.</p><p>“Well, sometimes, the mood just strikes.”</p><p>“Changelings do not <em>have</em> <em>‘</em>moods’, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Bond smiled. “Oh, I think you have plenty of moods!” said.</p><p>“Oh really? And what mood would you say I am in right now?”</p><p>“Cranky.”</p>
<h2>Team Tech Babes</h2><p>“God it’s just so ABSURD, isn’t it!” I said, stifling a giggle. Miles cut his eyes at me suspiciously.</p><p>“What?” I asked him. “Does this NOT seem funny to you?”</p><p>“Oh, no, ha, no…it does. You just seem a little…giggly.</p><p>“Aren’t I <em>always</em>?”</p><p>I pulled my transport beacons from my pocket and adhered them to a few of voles gathered in the corner of the conduit junction I was standing in, making an audible “<em>boop” </em>sound with each one. Miles stood and watched, clearly tracking my movements. “annnnd…wooosh,” I added with a giggle, watching the rodents disappear.</p><p>“Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yes boss man!”</p><p>“You’re high.”</p><p>“I’m not…hiiiiiiiigh,” I said, and stumbled as I fell over one of my own feet. The chief caught me. “Just…glad to be here! In space! On the station! It’s all spinny!”</p><p>“Right,” Miles agreed, awkwardly. “Do you remember Julian saying that the anesthetic might make some of us loopy?”</p><p>“Uhhhhhme? Of course I do, silly. I remember evvvvvvverything Julian says.”</p><p>“I’m sure you do. Don’t you think that <em>might </em>be what’s happening to you?”</p><p>“Ahhhh…shit. You’re…correct, I think, Chief.”</p><p>I tapped my combadge.</p><p>“Lieut…gr…to...bash…oh, fuck it, Savannah to Julian?”</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>“I thinnkkkk I maaaybeeee need a uh…can someone transport me to the infirmary?”</p><p>“Oh, <em>dear.”</em></p><p>“That’s right, my dearest Doctor…we might have a…probleeemmm…HELLO!”</p><p>I managed to slur the last word out for so long I was still lingering on the consonant when I found myself standing in the middle of the infirmary floor.</p><p>“Juuuuuulian! And Suuuusan!” I slurred, the names almost dripping off my lips.</p><p>“You good there, buddy?” Susan asked. She was sitting next to Julian, her rolling chair pulled close to his, in front of one of the computer consoles. She had a large coffee in her hand.</p><p>“Youuuu ‘member when you said we might get a little…woah…hiiigh?” I asked.</p><p>I took a couple stumbling steps forwards, and Julian stood and caught me in his arms. “You were the one I was the most concerned about,” he said.</p><p>“Of course I was! Because I’m TINY!”</p><p>Julian laughed and pushed me away from him just enough to look into my eyes. “How do you feel?” he asked, reaching out to take my pulse. I leaned into his hand and giggled.</p><p>“Right, like you taught me!”</p><p>“Right,” he nodded. “Do you feel lightheaded?”</p><p>“Like pass out lightheaded? Noooo, nothing’s going dark. I’m just…dizzy. I might just fall over…”</p><p>“Good thing I’ve got you then, hmm?”</p><p>“Indeed,” I slurred. “Just like always.” I extended an uncoordinated hand and sloppily pet his face. “You’re verrrry pretty,” I said, clearly not processing the words. He blushed. There was a snicker from the other side of the room.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, I can’t <em>wait</em> for you to sober up and remember this,” Susan said from her position at one of the consoles.</p><p>“I’m going to be embarrassed, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Very,” Julian answered. “You need to lie down. I think the vole hunt will do just fine without you.” He said it all with a permanent silly grin on his face, clearly amused by the situation.</p><p>“Finnnnne with me. I get to do nothing <em>and</em> hang out with you? It’s a win-win,” I said. Julian helped me into the empty biobed and I sleepily snuggled down in it.</p><p>“How lonf…lonnng’s it gonna take this to wear ‘ff?”</p><p>Julian combed my hair off my face with his fingers. “A couple hours. Will you be alright here?”</p><p>“Nooooooo, I hate it here. This is the worst,” I said, dripping with sarcasm. I grinned at him, and corrected myself. “Of <em>course</em> I’ll be fine…I’m…mmmm…very happy.”</p><p>“And very high,” Susan added affectionately from the other end of the room. I waved a dismissive hand in her direction.</p><p>“Weren’t <em>you</em> asleep?” I asked her.</p><p>“I was, but then the rest of you got too entertaining on the comms.”</p><p>“Another dozen voles, safely removed,” Garak’s voice said over the comm system.</p><p>“That puts your team in the lead!” Susan answered.</p><p>“7 more from Quark’s.”</p><p>“9 in the upper pylons.”</p><p>“And 3 from the habitat ring,” the other teams checked in.</p><p>“Doctor, I think we may have a small problem.” – Garak’s voice again.</p><p>“Which is?”</p><p>“There’s a damaged plasma conduit in this cargo bay. It’s not easily visible, but it’s heating up the surrounding metal. Robertson put their hand on the wall, and they seem to have a fairly serious burn.”</p><p>Susan handled the relaying of instructions back and forth to the transporter operators in OPS, and then Robertson was standing in the infirmary, silently, cradling one of their hands. Their right palm was bright red, and they were staring wordlessly at Julian. A nurse, an unfamiliar young man who had been mostly keeping to himself, immediately launched himself in their general direction, clearly falling back on medical academy training. Robertson flinched, and Julian extended a hand in the nurse’s direction.</p><p>“Don’t do that,” he said, his tone somehow managing to be authoritative despite its softness. “I’ll handle this one.” The nurse backed off, and Julian focused in on Robertson.</p><p>“No time to write me a note,” he said softly. Robertson nodded.</p><p>“And it would be difficult now, with the hand,” he continued. Julian’s whole demeanor had shifted, just a little. He traded in his frenetic energy for slow, soft, even speech and careful movements. “I think we can do 20 questions, though, how about you?”</p><p>Robertson nodded a yes.</p><p>“Is it only your right hand?”</p><p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>Does it hurt?”</p><p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p><p>“Badly?”</p><p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p><p>“That’s actually a good sign – if it hurts, the nerves aren’t dead. It means it’s not a very serious burn.”</p><p>A small, but perceptible, hint of relief appeared to wash over Robertson. I scooted over, curling my knees to my chest to make room for someone else to sit on the bed. Julian leaned against it, and rested his hand on it.</p><p>“Can you come over and sit down, so I can take a look at that?” Julian asked.</p><p>They shook their head emphatically. <em>No.</em></p><p>“Is the biobed just too much?”</p><p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p><p>Julian hooked the toe of his boot through the rungs of the stool that lived near the bed, and pushed it out in front of him.</p><p>“How about this, for a seat?” he asked. Robertson wavered a little, but took several increasingly confident steps in our general direction, before thinking better of it, and sitting cross legged on the floor.</p><p>“Can I just…stay here?” they asked quietly. Julian smiled.</p><p>“Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable. How about I come to you?”</p><p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p><p>Julian collected his instruments – very few of them, for this particular injury – and joined his nervous patient on the floor.</p><p>“If it hurts, it’s probably only a second degree burn. That’s not terribly serious, and I can easily repair the damaged tissue, but I do need to take a closer look at the injury. I’m going to examine your hand, and patch you up with the dermal regenerator. It’ll take a couple minutes at most. No surprises. Are you comfortable to go on?”</p><p>“Yes.” This one was not nodded, but spoken. Robertson willingly provided their hand for examination. Julian took it, gently, and studied the injury.</p><p>“See the blistering, here?” he asked, pointing out slowly whitening spots on the outside edge of their hand. “I know they’re painful, but they tell me the injury doesn’t go beyond the top layers of skin. I can have you back to your vole hunting in just a moment.”</p><p>He picked up the regenerator, which was next to him on the floor, and deferred to his patient with a nod.</p><p>“You can do it yourself, if you’d like,” he offered. They shook their head lightly.</p><p>“No…that’s fine. You can do it."</p><p>Julian gave them a small smile, apparently content to be trusted, and carefully repaired the burnt skin. Robertson cautiously tested their repaired hand.</p><p>“Thank you,” they said softly.</p><p>“Just doing my job. You’re free to go back to the vole hunt, if you’d like.”</p><p>“I think I would rather hang out with you guys. I think I need to rest, for a while,” Robertson said.</p><p>“You can hang out wherever you want,” Julian reassured them. He extended a cautious hand, clearly watching for any signs of discomfort. When they didn’t flinch away, he gently brushed an errant hair out of their eyes. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” he said softly. Robertson, beginning to smile, nodded.</p>
<hr/><p>“So what were the totals?” Kira asked excitedly. “Who won?”</p><p>PADDs were scattered across the table. Bond picked one up and read from it.</p><p>“FINAL VOLE TOTALS,” she began, commandingly. “Team “Tech Babes” – Really, Miles?”</p><p>“Hey, don’t look at me! It was her!”</p><p>“It was <em>both of us</em>,” I said in defense.</p><p>“Either way, tech babes. Final vole count: 32. Team Bajor: 45 – not bad, for the habitat ring!”</p><p>Kira and Ahna high-fived.</p><p>“Teammmm Justice – Odo, you and I swung in at 53. Annnnd the winner…”</p><p>Bond paused for dramatic effect, as if we didn’t already know by process of elimination.</p><p>“Team ‘For Cardassia’, you guys swung in with a REMARKABLE 103 voles transported. Though, personally, I think you may have had an unfair advantage, being the only team of three, <em>and </em>tackling the cargo bays.”</p><p>“Life isn’t fair, my dear,” Garak said, all bitchiness and self satisfaction. His teammates cheered and high fived over his head.</p><p>“Anyway, what about Savannah?” Susan said with a grin, clearly trying to embarrass me.</p><p>“I’m vaguely aware I might have said something dumb while I was high as a kite,” I admitted. The whole table laughed at me.</p><p>“You said <em>a lot</em> of things while you were high as a kite,” Susan confirmed.</p><p>“I don’t really remember it. I didn’t say anything too horribly embarrassing to Julian, did I?”</p><p>“Other than petting his face and calling him pretty, no,” Irena said mischievously.</p><p>“Oh gooooood. Am I ever going to live this down?”</p><p>The answer from the table was in perfect unison.</p><p>“NO!”</p>
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